The Poetry of Pablo Saborío

Month: August 2011

Follow the designs
of the fruit fly course
and swallow the silver abyss
of the month, like a pocket of lungs
in the tissue of paperwork,
the wrong eschatology
roaming freely in the
painless nurture
of nature – there
flapping endlessly
in a wind of glimpse.

dO you smell the crust
of the aging mutation,
with mY despair
spreading
on the epidermis like
a rash of Saturn;
I’m seated on the stool
of a cosmos, looking at
the eyes of the bartender
that serves one last
drink of bitter birth;
the memory of orange sequence
expanding in the wave
of the hour;
the noise was a velvet number
dialing red, green, blue
in the connection of perception —

a nook like the sun
an insignificance
with the oblivion spangled
moments.

Seltzer star
fizzling like a pill of dust
in the throat of mass misery
wrapped in prison hours
and seconds of miniature perceptual escapes,
the culmination of moths around the light
of the existing moment;
wrought in carrousel indictments,
suspended voice and hermit name –
like a dog,
in the senseless procedure
of understanding
the cause and reason of events,
have I been freed
from the road of collision
with the master plan of chance?

I stay longer
in the night brimming
with fizzling astral loathsomeness
my hand in the pocket
and the wretched expanse
as a dark expression of
mystery.

the window shop
like a memory
carrying the scent
of an effete cosmos,
the wrinkles engraved
as snakes on a dead desert
of polyester,
the trapezoids existing
shadows in the skin
of the pattern,
and the sadness of the suit
saturated with the rust
of a regret, the shoes
of temple sacrifice-
the suit gray and occidental
ail and sober
standing brave
as the soldier of ruin.